


Rant and Shave

by weneedtotalkaboutsherlock (Paradoxe1914)



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: And how two boys in love overcome them, Banter, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Graphic description of extreme capillary situations, Haircuts, Humor, Idiots in Love, Lockdown Life, M/M, Quarantine, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 18:48:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29987250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paradoxe1914/pseuds/weneedtotalkaboutsherlock
Summary: Four months into the pandemic, the Bittle-Zimmermann household has… a bit of a capillary problem. And Bitty is a hair breath's away from losing his mind. Quite literally.
Relationships: Eric "Bitty" Bittle/Jack Zimmermann
Comments: 18
Kudos: 105





	Rant and Shave

**Author's Note:**

  * For [koshersalt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/koshersalt/gifts).



> Today I got talking koshersalt about her wonderful [undercut!Jack art](https://ibakesouffles.tumblr.com/post/160243679679/playoff-beard-undercut). I suggested that perhaps it came to be because Bitty decided to cut Jack's hair during quarantine, after which koshersalt suggested a quarantined haircut for Bitty that features in this fic.  
> This is unbetaed and written in the span of a few hours. 
> 
> Basically: two boys in love, a whole lot of chirping, and Bitty being a drama queen about his boyfriend's... little hair problem.  
> Enjoy. :D

The situation is critical. In fact, it passed "critical" a long time ago and has now entered "Bitty regularly makes love to the Sasquatch" territory.

Four months into the pandemic, the Bittle-Zimmermann household has… a bit of a capillary problem. And Bitty is a hair breath's away from losing his mind. Quite literally.

It wasn't a problem at first, of course. After living with Jack throughout a few hockey seasons, Bitty was used to the flow and beard Jack usually sports during the playoffs, which comes with many advantages. But then, the shaggy teenage boyband singer's look had become something else, and Jack went through two decades of Beatles' hairstyles in the span of two months. And okay, Bitty was kind of fine with that too, only if it meant achieving that sexy Jason Momoa look at the end of the day, but Jack had skipped Hot Hawaiian Surfer length to settle right onto caveman. And why stop there when you can keep going and save some cosplay money for your next appearance as Chewbacca at the local convention?

But it's not like conventions are going to happen anytime soon, and Jack's rapidly growing tousle makes Bitty itch to reach for the phone and call the wildlife science community. _Still searching for the Yeti? Don't you worry, sir, he lives in my apartment._

Spread out on the couch, still in his pajamas at nearly ten in the morning, Bitty's thumb is in charge of doom scrolling on his phone while he glares at Jack's back, seated at the island, inhaling cereals, his hair well on its way to reach his shoulders. 

_How?_ How much testosterone can flow in a single man's blood system to justify such capillary extremes? Bitty's situation is well advanced as well — his mop of hair resembles the cut he had during frog year before he shaved his sides — but it's nowhere near Jack's.

Bitty sighs. Watches. Jack takes off his headband, and with the air of a retired tennis player wishing for better days, runs a hand through his hair. Replaces the headband. (Seriously.) Scratches his beard.

Bitty springs on his feet. "Okay, Rapunzel, that's _enough_."

"I— what?" Jack says, and as he turns on the stool to face Bitty, one strand of hair pops free from his headband and pokes him in the eye.

Bitty steps in between his knees, and gently tucks the wild strand back in. "We're taking care of this situation today, mister."

"What situation?"

"That lill' hippie look you've got going here," Bitty chuckles. He pulls Jack's hairband off, and runs both hands through Jack's hair, from front to back. "Too much flower power for you, honey."

Jack's hands settle on Bitty's waist. He pouts a bit, but it's all manipulation techniques. "I thought you liked it."

"I liked it to a point. But what I also like is seeing your _face_."

"You see my face now," Jack points out.

"Uh, not when I do this," Bitty says, and lets Jack's bangs fall free and over his eyes. "You look like one of those poor dogs that look like they don't have eyes."

"They're made that way. The sun hurts their eyes when you cut it off."

Bitty huffs. "Okay, mister, we haven't been confined for that long. No need to build natural resistance against the outside world."

Jack rolls his eyes. "Eh, I'll just go when the barber opens again. Should be soon, now."

Bitty stares at him. Seriously, that boy. "We thought the barber would reopen soon three months ago, sweetpea. We're taking care of this today, or else the NHL will figure out things before you can get a cut, and can you imagine if you have to maintain this throughout the playoffs?"

"What makes you think I don't want to raise the bar for Gritty?" Jack asks, a slight smile on his face.

Ah. So there is at least some level of self-awareness, here. "Honey," he says, slowly. "At this point, you're no competition, you're a mating call."

And that's what seals the deal for Jack.

*

They get a chair in the bathroom, and as Jack sits down with a towel on his shoulder, Bitty prepares the scissors and the clippers. Lord, he can't think about the last time he was that excited.

Actually, he can: it was last week when they went around the block but the _other way_ while on their morning jog.

Bitty sets his tools down and rotates the desk chair until Jack faces the mirror. He closes his eyes for a brief second and thinks about all those nights he fantasized about tying Jack up. As in, tying him to the bed and shaving that mop off as he slept.

 _Vindication_.

"Any last words?" he asks Jack.

"Nope. The flow may go." Jack grins at him. "And let me guess, you're fine with the beard staying?"

Pulling Jack's hair back, Bitty rolls his eyes. "We'll just trim it. Don't get me wrong, I think the JVN look is fierce, but it's just not for your face, sweetie."

"Maybe I could shave everything," Jack suggests.

"Don't you dare, mister!" 

He doesn't have anything against Jack's... general hairiness. On the contrary. It's just that what's happening on Jack's head is a bit out of control. 

"We could do a mustache," Jack says.

"No."

"I think I could rock a mustache."

"No."

"On a scale from Shitty to your dad, how much do you think I could rock a mustache right now?"

"November happens once per year, Jack, and once per year is enough."

Jack hums and lets Bitty play with his hair, smoothing it all back under control. Goodness, this is more fun than anticipated.

"What are the scissors for?" Jack asks, with a frown. "You're not just going to shave it?"

Bitty gasps. "We are not giving you a buzz cut, mister. That is _not_ happening."

"What about a buzz cut and a mustache?" Jack asks — he's not even able to keep a straight face, now.

"Oh my, the Lord really messed up his hotness to common sense ratio when he made you, didn't he?" He leans in and presses a kiss to the top of Jack's head. "Let me tell you what I have in mind, okay? Then you'll decide."

"Fine," Jack sighs. "I just signed up to be your lab rat, didn't I?"

"Have a bit of faith in your man, honey," Bitty says. "I promise it's going to be great, but since we're not seeing anyone right now, we might as well… experiment a bit?"

Jack groans. "What are you thinking about, exactly?"

"Okay, so." Gently, he takes Jack's hair at his temples and pulls his fingers back until the hair there is flat against Jack's scalp. "We could do just a bit of an undercut."

Jack quirks an eyebrow at him. "A bit?"

"Okay, a very short undercut. It'll grow back in three days if it's not your thing."

"Three days?" Jack snorts. "You're generous."

_See?_

"Do you trust me?" Bitty asks.

"Do you actually have any experience with cutting hair?"

"Well, actually, I watched a few youtube videos on the subject. And I learned to make braids back when I was figure skating."

"Great," Jack says, smirking. "Braids and youtube videos. Snip away, Bits."

"Such a doll."

"Literally."

Since Bitty is getting the sense that Jack's chirping might be a delaying mechanism, he reaches for the scissors and works slowly and methodically. It's actually a lot of fun and Bitty wonders why he hasn't done this before. _Clip_. No more gross headband. _Clip_. No more swallowing hair during sex. _Clip_. No more clogged shower drains. _Clip_. Every single strand of hair falling to the ground is the equivalent of a very small orgasm, and Jack notices.

"You don't even make that face during sex," Jack chirps.

"That's not true, and you would know, mister, if you could _see something_ during sex."

"Touché."

By the time Jack's hair is nicely trimmed down, Bitty picks the clippers and his sanity back up from the counter. That part isn't very hard, since Bitty gets it done on himself once in a while, and when Jack's sides are short enough to his liking, he swings Jack right back in front of the mirror.

Lord.

Face.

Eyes.

_Cheekbones!_

"Ah, that's not bad," Jack says, as he rises from his seat to take a better look at the mirror.

Not _bad_? Good lord. Why haven't they done this sooner? Seriously. Bitty envisaged that Jack would look good because it's that kind of haircut that usually compliments most faces, but he looks dead gorgeous. As in, Bitty is dead because of how gorgeous Jack looks.

"Okay, yeah, I like it," Jack admits, still checking himself out in the mirror. "Hello world," he adds, with a smile.

And the world glanced over its shoulder, looked Jack up and down and up again, and said _hello_ back.

*

Bitty's busy styling Jack’s bangs with the hair clay he's got from his usual place until Jack backs him up against the chair and the back of Bitty's knees hit the chair.

The next thing he knows, he's sitting down and Jack is placing the towel over his shoulder. "You, now," he says, triumphant.

"Actually, would you? It's getting too much for me as well."

He sees it, the exact moment Jack's expression falls as he realizes what it means. "Shit. Never mind, I'll mess it up."

"Of course you won't, honey. It's not that hard."

"I have no idea how to cut hair."

"Just take the clippers then," Bitty says, handing them to him, "and do the back and the sides. "I'll take care of the top."

Jack smirks. "Your specialty."

"Aw, you keep telling yourself that, sweetheart," he laughs. It's kind of an inside joke between them, now.

"But seriously? You trust me with this?"

Goodness, Jack sounds properly scared, now. "It's hair, Jack, it'll grow back. God knows not as fast as yours, but it'll grow back."

"Okay," Jack says, smile shaky. "Please don't divorce me if I fuck it up."

They aren't even married yet — another thing the pandemic has put a hold on — but that's not what worries him, as Bitty's eyes settle on Jack's face in the mirror. "Jack Laurent Zimmerman, do you really think I love my hair more than I love you?"

"I didn't say that."

"I'm not _shallow_ , mister, and for proof, I spent the last month making love to brunette Gritty over here."

It has the desired effect and Jack shakes his head, laughing. "All right, all right. I still might mess it up."

"I don't care, sweetie. There's just too much hair. Let's end this once and for all."

Closing his eyes, Bitty concentrates on the buzzing sound of the clippers and the shivers that run down his back as Jack's fingertips settle low on the back of his neck. He works with the clippers for a few minutes, and the few times Bitty opens his eyes, it's to look at Jack's concentrated, frowny face in the mirror, until a sharp movement makes the clipper slip higher on Bitty's scalp.

"Oh, câlisse. I went too high, didn't I?"

"Let me see," Bitty says, and touches the back of his hand as Jack takes the clippers away.

Hm. Yeah. Interesting style choice.

"Shit," Jack repeats. "I told you—"

"Just shave it off," Bitty says.

"What?"

"Shave it all off."

Jack gapes at him. " _You_ want the buzz cut?"

"I can definitely pull off a buzz cut. Shave it off."

"Is this you having your midlife crisis?" Jack asks.

"I'm twenty-five, Jack."

"Your mid-pandemic crisis?"

"Just shave it off," Bitty chuckles.

"But— but—"

"Shave!" Bitty chants, laughing. "Shave, shave, shave!"

"Aaarrgh—" Jack grits out, chucking along, and goes right up Bitty's scalp with the clippers.

"No going back, now," Bitty says, grinning.

It's a thing of beauty, actually, the moment Jack realizes a silly hair mistake ain't the end of the world. His shoulders fall and a playful smile stretches his lips as he goes through Bitty's hair, shaving strip after strip until nothing is left but a soft buzz of hair all over his head.

God, it's _freeing_.

Still smiling, Bitty shakes his head to let the small hairs still clinging to his scalp fall on the floor just as Jack puts the clippers back on the counter. He stands up and checks himself in the mirror, and— wow. It actually works. Not that he doubted it would, but dang, he's cute. Scratch that, he's _hot_. If he has any doubts about that, he only needs to take a good look at Jack's face right now.

But you know what…? "Okay, since we're experimenting," Bitty starts… Why not go wild? "Wait for me!" he asks Jack, as he steps out of the bathroom, already reaching for his phone and keys on the kitchen island.

Just before he closes the door behind him, a bewildered voice in his back: "Where would I go? We're in lockdown."

*

Biting on his lower lip, Bitty steps out of the bathroom.

He's been there for a good hour and hasn't let Jack in or told him what he was doing, and he knows when his boy is dying of curiosity. Just as he closes the door behind him, Jack stands from his stool, and takes a step towards him, eyes wide.

"So," Bitty says, "how do you like it?"

Transfixed, Jack steps in front of him and runs his hand over Bitty's head. Oh. That's a nice, new sensation.

When he speaks, Jack's voice is low and a bit strangled. "You look… yeah. Great."

"Hmm." Is Jack ever going to lift his hands from Bitty head? Good lord, he hopes not. "I figured, since we're not seeing anyone any time soon, I might as well go a bit wild? It's not like my mama's here to judge my life choices."

He doubts she would approve of the peach colored-dyed buzz cut, but what she doesn't know can't hurt her.

"Bitty," Jack says, with a frown. "That's great, and I, uh, approve, but… We have a Zoom with your folks tomorrow."

"Oh my god." He falls against Jack's chest, like a plank over the railing of a pirate's ship, ready for the inevitable execution. " _Oh my god, Jack._ "

Jack laughs, and when he presses his lips to the top of Bitty's head— well, that's also a nice, new sensation.

**Author's Note:**

> The centerpiece of this fic, "Jack Laurent Zimmerman, do you really think I love my hair more than I love you?", is a very closely adapted sentence that was provided to me by koshersalt, so thanks again. <3
> 
> If anyone wants my (very less) artistic rendition [of Sasquatch!Jack](https://i.imgur.com/UGgZVM1.jpg).


End file.
